


Wash Me Clean or Whip It

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dominatrix, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, cock play, light flogging - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: Money laundering. Can you wash away the taint of money earned under questionable circumstances by micro lending it to the poor? Alternative summary: "When a problem comes alongYou must whip it"** lyrics from Devo's "Whip it"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts), [mademoiselle_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoiselle_k/gifts), [ThatCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCat/gifts).



> For Tommyginger, mademoiselle_k, and UKCat, I vote for happiness and smutty fanfics...
> 
> I want to believe that yesterday was only a bad dream...

It started with a simple wish - I want to help.

It was what drove her to complete her nursing degree, what drove her to enlist her friends to join her to help build schools in Africa, and what finally drove her to drop her alias to claim the inheritance due to her, the missing wife of the late Joffrey Baratheon.

By some strange twist of fate, Joffrey was the sole heir of Tywin Lannister's vast fortune and inherited a significant portion of his father's estate. He had no will, and he lived in King's Landing, a community property state. That meant all of his estate would legally go to her, his surviving spouse. But it was not as simple as that - Cersei sued, citing the estranged nature of their marriage (with her missing within the first two years of marriage), casting doubt on her identity and digging up sordid details of her past (including her dalliances with Petyr Baelish, a known pornographer). But in the end, she prevailed - Cersei halted the proceedings when Sansa threatened to expose her incestuous affair with her brother resulting in the births of Joffrey and his younger siblings. 

At first, she thought to give grants to small textile businesses in third world countries but found out that the proud women she wanted to help did not want hand outs, they wanted to be able to borrow, use the funds to invest in their trade and pay back the loan using the monies they earned. So Joffrey's "blood" money was used to finance micro loans (with modest interest rates) to the poor. Every time a new loan was made, her heart grew lighter and her smile grew bigger. What irony that the money of the biggest bigot and misogynist is helping poor women! He was probably rolling in his grave (along with his grandfather and his father both of whom also shared his poor views of women)! She loved it that he was proven wrong about his views of women as being money hungry blood suckers as there were almost no defaults. The mostly female borrowers had more dignity and integrity in the fingernail of their tiniest finger than he had in his entire body.

The only thing she hated was her loss of anonymity. Sansa loved being Alayne, a carefree granola eating hippie chick who loved cut off denim shorts and tube tops and most of all loved her gal pals, Jeyne, Mya and Myranda and Sandor, an honorary "gal with a prick". But now she had to be Sansa Stark, the glamorous head of the largest micro financing enterpise in the world. She was in the news from the Wall Street Journal, Life magazine, New York Times and even fashion magazines. Her life story was aired out - everyone thought they knew her, this plucky girl who fell into hard times and rose like a phoenix. They made her out to be some saint and she knew that all the good deeds she did now could not cancel the bad things she did (and which her friends completely "erased"). She could not forget.

When her father's alma mater wanted to honor her with an honorary degree and wanted her to speak at the university, her first thought was to place that letter in the "Trash" pile, the pile containing love letters from prisoners (the worst being the letters from sex predator Ramsey Snow who was creepily fascinated with her) and people wanting her and her friend Myranda to dominate them (as her past as a dominatrix with Myranda at Petyr's night club came to light with Cersei's well publicized lawsuit). But before she did, Jeyne grabbed the letter and exclaimed that she had to accept.

"Sans, think of all the young women in the audience. I think you should do it, and it is your father's alma mater. He would be so proud," Jeyne said with her arms around her beau, Sandor.

Would he be proud? She shook her head - she could not think of him. Before she could disagree, Mya jumped on her back like a baby koala hanging onto her mummy.

"What's up?" asked Mya.

"Sans is being asked to speak at King's Landing U."

"Ooohhhh, that means cute frat boys!" Myranda crowed.

"And cute young girls too!" Mya hooted.

Sandor snorted and said something underneath his breath to Jeyne's amusement.

Sansa looked at her crazy pals - M & M as she called them. Between the two of them, they probably bedded half of the population in the Vale and shuddered to think the havoc they would wrought in KLU. But she thought more deeply about telling her story and hoping that it could make a difference in these young lives. If only one person was touched by her words, it would be more than worth it! 

She penned a quick note to the Provost declining the honorary degree (like the women she helped, she only wanted what she earned) and acquiescing to the invitation to speak and to also participate in a small panel discussion with the provost and the treasurer regarding the University's investment portfolio.

She prayed that she was doing the right thing.

\-----

Some times he hated his job. He hated sending letters to frou frou celebrities to honor them with degrees they did not earn (most of the celebs as his daughter called them probably did not know how to read or write, probably only knew how to text and use weird emoticons). But his daughter Shireen was so excited (squealing like a pod of dolphins when she read the letter he signed) that the Board of Regents wanted Sansa Stark, a daughter of one of the school's alumni, Ned Stark (not a particularly memorable student who barely eked by and was a legacy admit), to get such an honor and to speak at the University. They also wanted to partner with her and diversify their investment portfolio. 

Stannis understood the impetus for the decision. News would soon come out of the school's past close connections to the mafia. They hoped to counter the soon to breaking scandal with their new close ties to Sansa Stark, the new It girl. The more he read about her and her past, Stannis became more worried about the reputation of this institution that he loved would be instead tainted by her and her sordid past.

Whips and black leather! That was more his late brother's taste. When he googled her, the first image he saw was her and her friend in matching leather body suits with each holding a whip. This could not be the person who Shireen worshipped and gushed about, not the person whose motto was "I want to help." The girl he saw was a mankiller whose motto was probably "I want to fuck."

He prayed to all the Gods, old and new and even the freaky red fire lizard god his ex worshipped, that she would not respond. He wanted this woman as far from him and his daughter as could be.

It was strange how prayers are granted.


	2. Chapter 2

She always wondered what type of man writes in cursive and long hand. And now she knew, a small minded obviously sexually repressed man.

Sansa could not believe this asshole, Stannis (what a pretentious hoity-toity silver spoon in the mouth type of name), trying to withdraw the invitation to speak at her father's alma mater. He cited her work at the Threshold and the Dominion as reasons for the withdrawal of the invitation. She was proud of her work - she used all of her skillsets in being one of the best Mistresses in the business, always whipping her clients to ecstasy with little to no marks (her skills as a nurse helped a great deal to ensure the safety of herself and her clients). Her clients liked how courteous and polite she was as she ordered them about, the dichotomy of the hard whip and the softness of her words and her tone. 

Doing a roundhouse kick to the punching bag, she screamed with frustration! The bag stopped moving when it was held by Sandor.

"Men!" she screamed.

Pointing to himself, Sandor corrected, "One man... Although Jeyne said I was like eight -"

"Ugh, please no more talk about how you are a sex god."

"You're right. It is known - no need to talk about it."

She punched the bag hard, pushing him back a foot.

"Nice jab but you are leaving too much of your body open. Need to crouch down to leave less surface area to hit." 

Sandor was a kickboxing trainer, and old habits are hard to kick (she snorted at her awful pun). It was how both she and Jeyne first met up at his self defense class, both abused by horrible men, and how they found their mojo to escape with the help of Sandor, who ran an Underground Railroad for battered women and men. She loved the man - maybe not necessarily the same way Jeyne loved him (mainly because she was so done with Men with a capital M!!!!) - but now she wished he would just shut it.

Another flying kick which actually almost knocked Sandor down! 

"Easy, girl! Easy! Violence is not the answer!"

Sansa had to quirk her left eyebrow as Sandor spent his free time (outside his precious time with sweet Jeyne) fighting in cages.

Sandor laughed and clarified, "Violence is not the answer for you. Truly. You never want to hurt anybody, even those who begged for it. And you don't eat meat."

The man spoke truly (but she did sometimes indulge in bacon and not the fake kind either) - while she was one of the best dominatrix, she did not enjoy any extreme games and truly did not want to hurt her clients. It was always about pleasure with a bit of a sting and a tantalizing threat of being punished.

"Talk to me, little bird. What troubles you? Jeyne said you screamed and have been in the basement since you opened this letter." 

He held that letter, the one she wanted to rip into shreds. It took everything in her power to not jump him and try to claw out the letter from his large meaty hand and then rip it up and then stomp on it. 

"As your friend, I took the liberty of reading this crock of bullshit. KLU has a business library named after Cersei Lannister, and you are worth more than a thousand of that creature."

"It is not a pissing contest, Sandor. I will not put that bitch down to pull myself up. What pissed me is Him effectively saying that I am a disgrace to all young women and men. He does not know me."

"So are you going to roll over and just take it? Not even push to talk to the students who need to hear how they can make a difference. That does not sound like the young woman I see in front of me, that woman is not a quitter. You are not a quitter."

"Yeah! YEAH! I WILL NOT BE DENIED - THE MAN IS NOT GOING TO PUT ME DOWN!!!"

She grabbed the letter and raced out still in her tank top and short shorts and got into her Tesla! She mumbled that she was going to give that man a piece of her mind. 

_I regret that the invitation was sent to you in error. Unfortunately, your history and affiliations with the Dominion, the Threshold, a known pornographer, and an ex convict make you an unsuitable speaker for our young students._

The letter was plainly worded and just shy of being rude, but Stannis wanted to make clear that Ms. Stark understood why the invitation was being rescinded. Sansa Stark or Alayne Stone (was that her porn star name?) was a horrible role model and an especially poor one for his daughter (he would explain that Sansa would neither be receiving any honor nor be speaking at the university). He would not be able to sleep with himself (and there was currently no one else in his bed as he was pretty much over Women with a capital W after his ex and Melisandre) if he allowed that woman onto the campus. He took his job as a Provost of the most distinguished university in the country seriously. 

Centering himself, he murmured his favorite biblical verse, " _I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me._ "

Suddenly he heard raised female voices and then his door was kicked open! An enraged and sweaty woman was glowering at him and waving a piece of paper in his voice.

Eyes widening at her outfit, he told Marya that it was fine and to hold his calls. It was at that moment the woman whispered something apologetically to his executive assistant. It seemed that her aggression was gone. Marya patted her hand and closed the door.

"Ms. Stone or is it Ms. Stark? Please have a seat." He sat himself, waiting for her to sit.

"No, thank you."

"No?" He was confused. Everything about this woman confounded him. She came in like a force of nature; then seemed to turn into a young lady with Marya for a sec; and now was standing defiantly in front of him. She was an obviously unstable woman.

Ignoring his question, she laid the letter on the desk and pointing at the words, she asked, "Do you know Sandor Clegane, the ex convict you referenced in the letter? Do you know what he does?"

"No, not personally. I know that he spent time in prison for assault and battery."

"He was an angry youth and for good reasons too, and he turned his life around, helping save countless battered women and men. He helped me. And the pornographer you are referring to, he is my uncle by marriage. Do you mean to damn me by association, because of what my uncle does?"

"No, it is not your familial relations but your partnership with him, working at the Dominion and the Threshold."

"Do you know what happens at the Dominion or the Threshold?"

His face redden as he recalled the racy images he saw in his mind when he looked at her pictures.

"It is a place where adults play in a safe and controlled environment," she explained.

She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. After a pause, she asked him the five worded question that he longed to hear ever since he was in kindergarden.

"Do you want to play?" 

She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to her. His eyes were uncontrollably transfixed at her cleavage, that seemed to be almost overflowing from the top of her white tank top and was barely contained by her visible black bra.

"Y-yes," he sputtered.

She quirked her eyebrow and quietly prompted him, "Yes, Domina."

"Yes, Domina," he replied obediently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John 10:14


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: While there are no welts, the chapter depicts whip play, mainly very light flogging in erogenous zones (including one starting with the letter C). If this offends, please feel free to skip (note this is the last chapter).

Wow! That was quick!

Sansa saw something in his eyes, the way they stared so intently at her, and the actually quite adorable red bloom on his face when she asked him what he knew about her other line of work, which was strangely enough not too different from her micro lending work when it came to dealing with local banking regulators. Despite himself and probably everything he thought he knew about her, Stannis was very much attracted to her, probably fantasizing about her before she bursted in. This would be fun and also enlightening for him. Even though his letter enraged her, she did not want to toy or truly mess with him.

But then she thought about her motto - _'I want to help.'_ Sansa could see the tension in his body, the way his hands were gripping the edge of the desk, how his shoulders were raised, and the gritting of his teeth. The session could release all of this tension which was clearly because he was sexually repressed. She convinced herself that she was helping him. Yeah, that was what she was doing - it had nothing to do with his beautiful eyes or his quite kissable jawline.

"Are you a good boy?" she asked.

"Yes, D-domina."

Hmmm, she would need to ask another question to confirm how the session would go - whether he needed a firmer touch.

"Do you want to be a bad boy?" she asked.

"Y-yes, Domina."

Interesting. He was equally uncertain answering both questions. It was clear that he did not know what he liked and probably never had a good sexual experience. She would have to alternate between hard/firm and soft/light and see how he responds. She pulled his tie so his face was closer to her cleavage.

He was now panting like a fish, his mouth agape and opening and closing. And she had not remove her tank top or shorts yet. Sansa never wore her everyday clothes during any sessions as things tended to get messy. Although she and Myranda posed in pleather bodysuits for publicity (Petyr always said to give the public what they want), she typically only wore a nice lingerie set and some thigh high boots. Her everyday lacy black bra looked fine but her matching boy shorts did not quite fit the mood she wanted. Her doc martens would just have to go. Luckily she always traveled with her whips and tiny paddle.

"First, I think it is important to set some parameters. Do you have any allergies? [seeing him shake his head] Good, do you have any phobias? [Shakes head but looked confused and nervous] I want to assure you that what we do today is for the sake of our pleasure. Anytime you want to stop, we will stop. You just say 'Stop.' Anytime I want to stop, we will stop. It is that simple. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Domina."

That was better.

"Take off your clothes and I will take off mine."

He almost strangled himself pulling his tie off. That was odd - she never dealt with self asphyxiation before. It did not look like he was enjoying it. He ripped off his shirt and pants, almost falling down as the pant leg got stuck in his shoes. She steadied him and tried to make soothing sounds as one would do for a frightened child.

"Domina will make it better, make you feel good. Relax and you will enjoy it more."

Stannis now stood stark naked in front of her, but strangely with his black socks and dress shoes on. She could not help but look appreciatively at him, which made his Mannis twitch and him blush again.

He deserved a bit of a show.

She gracefully sat down in a chair and beckoned him to kneel in front of her. When she daintily pointed at her docs, he began to stick out his tongue as to lick her shoes. _Yuck!_ Sansa quickly corrected course - either subtle mime work did not work for this man or he had some fetish involving dirt or feet - by telling him to remove her shoes slowly please.

"Yes, Domina."

His hands were trembling, and he rushed the last shoe, snapping the neon pink lace. _Damn it!_

"Will I be punished because I was a bad boy?"

Wow! Did the man do some research because his submissive script game was strong?

"I do not know [pretends to prettily think this over as Stannis is breathing heavily]. Well, it looked like an honest mistake, that it was not intentionally done. [watches his face drop and his lips form an adorable pout] But it was my favorite shoe lace. Maybe five spanks?"

She slowly stands up barefooted and slowly removes her shirt, starting from the button and toying with each, and then wiggling herself out of her tiny gym shorts. Grabbing the paddle, she sits down again, and he obediently rests on her lap with his round bottom up in the air.

Leaning down so her lace covered breasts is pressed against his back, she whispered, "Tell me stop if you want to stop. Do you want to stop?

"No, Domina."

A quick strike to his left bun which left a light pink mark and resulted in a moan.

Another strike on the left. His body seemed so tense. She stopped and again leaned.

"Say stop if you want to stop and more if you want to take your punishment."

"More!" he shouted.

"Manners, it is very important to be polite. That means two additional spanks."

"Domina, I am sorry. More please," he begged.

Three harder paddle strikes to the right bun so both cheeks are pink. They looked so cute that she wanted to kiss them. Quickly shaking her head to clear these disturbing thoughts (she never got too close to any client, maintaining her distance), she massaged his bottom to soothe and waited for him to fully relax before she spanked him twice with her bare hands. Watching his round orbs jiggle after each spank and feeling how warm his skin felt (normally she wore gloves), she felt hot herself.

This would not do and she quickly stood up, making him scramble off her lap. He maintained his kneeling position, and it was clear that he was even more excited.

She slowly sashayed to her bag and took out her whip/flogger with its nine silk tails. She did not pick up her long bull whip which she mainly used to strike against the floor, to make that loud snapping sound to heighten the sense of fear and anticipation. Sansa could feel his eyes on her and hear his breath quickening when she unnecessarily bent over. He was grunting.

When she turned around, she saw he was pleasuring himself. He quickly stopped at her gaze.

"Why did you stop?"

"You did not tell me to touch myself."

"That is true - but I also did not tell you that you could not touch yourself. Isn't that also true? [watches him looking confused] But you want to be good boy for Domina, yes? You know that good boys don't masturbate in front of ladies. You like rules, you like order, yes? You want Domina to tell you that you are a good boy, to reward you?"

"Yes, Domina."

She gently rubbed the flogger's silk ribbons that were knotted against his nipples, watching them stiffen. Then she playfully rubbed it against his cock as his eyes widen in panic - that might be too much. She would slowly test his limits.

She quickly moved the flogger up so that the knotted silk ribbons were rubbing against the wiry hair on his pelvis and his lower stomach. She rubbed it harder against both of his hardened nipples. He was breathing heavily.

"Do you like this?"

"Yes, Domina.

She lightly swished the flogger on his chest, teasing his nipples and watching his beautiful eyes darken.

"Do you like it when I do this?"

"Yes, Domina, more please."

She now flicked a feather light hit against his pectoral muscles that were lightly dusted with hair. He moaned appreciately. She progressively flicked slightly harder, faster and lower but they were still light flicks - his skin did not even redden although he was beginning to glisten with sweat. The last flick hit mostly squarely on his stomach but one stray ribbon lightly flicked his hardened cock. He moaned loudly.

"Lower?"

"Yes, Domina, please."

She started the sequence again - the light rubbing, then playful swishing then feather light flicks, making sure his face did not show any signs of unendurable physical pain, but now each flick three seconds apart as the man just broke in front of her, grunting and moaning, his face reddening. He wanted more, harder, faster. He wanted to touch himself but was fighting himself. Sansa could see that he had even more baggage than she, and she self professed (and all of her pals loudly agreed) that she carried at least three of the largest Louis Vuitton steamer trunks of issues (e.g., abandonment issues, trust issues, commitment issues, intimacy issues, pretty much any issue one can name, including a strange phobia of bananas).

Sansa knew that she carried the session too far. She made her point already, and he was not ready for this. There was too much shame. The poor man was imploding in front of her.

Before she could walk away, he begged, "Please, please, Domina, more."

Automatically, she went through her script. She should have ended the session instead.

"I do not understand - I have not stopped. You are a highly educated man - you need to use complete sentences and tell me exactly what you want."

"I want you to whip my cock harder, Domina. Please whip my cock harder."

One quick much harder flick, and then she told him he could touch himself now - he was a good boy, deserving a reward. She turned around and walked away as she heard loud gruntings and a gasp of release.

Her hands were shaking as she neatly packed her flogger in a large plastic bag. It was an intense session - he was nothing like any of the men she met before, but maybe for her father. She already made her point that what she did, that was not wrong.

She squirted some anti-bacterial gel onto hands and rubbed them until they air dried. She took out her large makeup remover wipes and cleaned her face, wiped her chest. She quickly put on her tank top and shorts.

"You were right. I did not know - I was wrong to pre-judge you," he said quietly to her back.

She felt somehow chastened even though she wanted him to say she was a good girl, not a bad girl. She could imagine that it was Father's voice, but alas she would never hear his voice again. Although Stannis did not know it, all the good things she did (and she counted her work as a dominatrix in that category) could never erase all the bad. Sansa researched Stannis and read his treatise on business ethics - "A Good Act." She agreed.

She turned around, and he was still naked. His clothes were torn apart.

"No, while this was not wrong although I may have gone too far -"

"I was willing," he interrupted.

"Yes, you were very willing and very good [watching him puff up with pride]. I have done bad things and you wrote that a good act does not-"

"I know what I wrote but you forgot the last part - _A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward._ You have done good acts and deserve to be rewarded for those acts of goodness... I never knew that there could be such pleasure to be found... and I want to reward you, to pleasure you. Please."

Again, he knelt again but this time, he was not a slave boy to her Domina, but instead a man worshipping a woman.

Later, he would lightly tease that the time she lent him paid her usurious amount of interest. She agreed, smiling fondly as she looked at her wedding band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized words from GRRM's "A Clash of Kings."
> 
> This is what she wore during their session (note the panties is actually a thong although described as a boy short in this chapter):
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Source: <https://www.rigbyandpeller.com/andres-sarda/shanghai/thong/weng-/zh5_AAABchsAAAFUd_EOshTt-3306059WEN36>


End file.
